I don't remember planning it, and I don't remember actually going. But I remember Kit and I being outside some kind of venue in Florida. I'm not sure where it was, the only thing I can say for certain is that it wasn't in Tampa.
We were going to see Porcupine Tree (unusual, eh?) and when we got there we got to see the opening band on this outdoor stage. But it wasn't really an opening band so much as a mixture of musicians that were not in a band together, really. Gavin was playing the drums, Danny from Anathema was playing the guitar. There were these two keyboard players whose keyboards were facing one another. I don't think they're "real" but the fair-haired one on the left was someone we knew from hanging out at the Mellotronen shop or something in the dream. He was in a band back in Stockholm and we'd secretly mocked him for not knowing how to pronounce Gavin's name. Anyways, the guys were really getting into it and it sounded great, but then there was this weird passage where the two keyboard players took turns hissing Gavin's name into the microphones. It sounded just like the bit in Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "The Lost Christmas Eve" where this kid is whispering "Christmas", "Christmas", etc. Except that this was Gavin's name and it clearly wasn't planned 'cause Gavin started laughing and almost lost his rhythm. Yeah, I know, like that's ever gonna happen.
After this gig, they started to clear away the stage, or rather the equipment placed on the ground, basically, as there wasn't really a stage and no fences or anything. So we realised that the "real deal" would not be out here. We spotted a stage and loads of amps through the windows of the building behind the outdoor stage and ran to the entrance. The line was long and we were really upset that we'd not gotten to the front. But as we got closer to the entrance we saw that people weren't moving towards the stage, they were mingling in the entrance hall. A bit relieved I asked Kit to take out the envelope with the tickets. As she did we realised that our trip had been so sudden that we hadn't told anyone we were coming. Not Mel, not Wes or Sam, and not Lynn (who in my dream had moved to Florida too). We were a bit downtrodden by our own lack of sense but at least we were going to see PT. So we got the tickets out of the envelope and there was this folded up, freakiskly long set of ticket-sized papers that had the shipping address, receipt, ads and sponsorship information on them (usually you get one or two bits added on to the actual tickets when UK venues send them to your home, but nothing like this!). Two of them would be our tickets and we had to find them. We could only find one and when we reached the woman checking the tickets we were really nervous about the whole thing. She said she'd find the second ticket for us (she seemed really nice), but after a minute she declared that there was no second ticket, only one. And of course we got upset but I managed to keep my cool and gave her my name and credit card number so that she could check her computer stuff for information on my purchase. She came back and said that I'd ordered one ticket for the indoor event and one for the earlier, outdoor event (clearly this doesn't make sense as we both attended the outdoor thing). Now I got really frightened as the gig was sold out and we couldn't get a second ticket. So I asked if she'd seen Sam, the tour manager. She hadn't and I begged her to let me go look for him a bit, since we had one ticket and all. It was all right so I headed for the stage and saw Steven over by a window. I darted forward:
"Is there any chance you could help me, Steven?" I blurted out before even reaching him and realising that it wasn't Steven at all, just a very calm-looking fan who'd donned the hair and glasses. He must've heard me wrong because he said:
"Sure, I can help you meet Steven later."
I wasn't sure if he tried to brag that he knew Steven or if he thought I was coming onto him and this was some kind of perverted game he was hoping to play. Either way I was surprised and disgusted and excused myself immediately.
I kept looking for Sam, and asked a couple of security guards who had no idea who Sam was. I even asked for "someone in the crew who speaks English with an American accent" as that only left Sam and Wes and seemed like safe bet they would've noticed. Nothing. Then I saw Hans and thought to myself: "I can not ask HIM to fetch Sam AGAIN!" and I didn't need to, because then he came out on stage. The beard was a little trimmed, but still there (so apparently his mother hadn's slapped it off his face yet, like he once told us she would).
"Sam! Sam!" I shouted and moved towards the stage. There was a lot of commotion around me but he still managed to hear me and came right on over. At this point the fear of the prospect of having to miss PT when we'd travelled so far to see them really set in and tears started pouring down my face. I felt like an idiot but I couldn't help it. I managed, somehow, to explain the situation to Sam and felt even more like an idiot when I heard myself beg him to help us if he could. He responded by giving me a great, big hug and tell me everything was going to be all right, he'd sort it all out. I wiped my tears and turned around to see Kit standing there, smiling and giving me the thumbs up for finding Sam. Apparently that kind woman by the entrance had let her in to help her look for Sam.
Next Sam told us to relax, the gig wouldn't start for ages and there was some kind of local teen marching band playing before them (and they sucked) and we should head over to the adjoining café before the gig and we'd still get to the front, no worries.
We sat down and the woman from the entrance served us tea and some weird looking cake-thing that apparently was a local specialty. You poured boiling water into it and it soaked it up and tasted even better than before. Really weird, but it was great. We looked out the window and saw this beautiful sunlit street (despite the fact that it had been dark outside when we queued to get into the venue) heading down from a lovely park to some really old stone houses and we were really impressed by this beautiful town. The woman came over and we tried to pay for the tea and cakes, but she said it had been taken care of already.
"What? Was it Sam who paid?"
She smiled and nodded and started talking about Sam and Wes and how nice they were. Then she asked if we knew if Wes was driving over from Tampe on his own (this is how I know we weren't in Tampa) but we had no idea.
I think this is where I woke up, and my first thought was that the view from the café window didn't match Florida. The stone houses were too old (like 14th, 15th century) and the park looked very English, nature-wise.
This dream was just a lot of the good experiences from our recent trip to the UK (which was a great success in every way, despite my worries!) mixed in with some odd stuff that I always find in my dreams. Blogs about the UK trip (that got extended to Finland) will be posted on www.myspace.com/campmanerg before New Year's, should you want to read about it.
Friday 28 December 2007
Monday 3 December 2007
The Dream of December 2-3
Things start out normal enough, but then there are some things that are just weird, and some things that are a bit... well, I won't get too graphic. Then there are a couple of things so weird I still, even as I write this, can't decide whether to include them or not.
OK. Once again the upcoming PT trip rears it's lovely head and this time things started out in the area I lived in between ages two and eleven. It was dark and Kit and I were waiting for the airport coach to arrive. I'm not sure what happened after we saw the bus arrive but then we were on this huge cruise ship, probably a lot like the one we'll be going on in March. Anyway, Beppo and Linnéa had joined us now, and why they were there I have no idea since this probably was a music cruise and we don't really listen to the same music.
I was off doing my own thing when I somehow ended up in this room that some people were staying in. It looked nothing like the real rooms on these ships, they had a really big living room - with a bath tub in one corner - and a really big bedroom next to it. The people staying there were some male musicians, their kids and these two girls who were their assistants (yes, they really were assistants and nothing else, though I have no idea why these guys needed them). One of the guys was supposedly French, though he had this really odd name that he actually had to write down for me to be able to learn it. One first name, two last names. He was living in India, though clearly not Indian, he had long, black hair in a pony tail, and it was quite curly. I'd say he was about 35-40 years old and judging by the teeth he was British (pardon my dental humour, but his teeth were not... bad, but certainly he didn't have that store-bought Hollywood smile), and he had a son who was about nine and had blond hair (and spoke British English). I remember that he was a widower (the man, not the boy), but I don't think he ever really told me, somehow I found out though. So me and French-British-Indian guy got on really well and then I left when it got really late.
Now, here some weird stuff comes in. Somehow, I know there was an earthquake. I think some of the interiors of the boat took some damage, but no one talked about it and everything else was fine. And I never made it back to our room because I met this man on the stairs going down who told me that Beppo had gotten really drunk and vomited on Kit's clothes and she was now washing them in the toilet. So I figured "fuck this" and headed back up to look for my Frenchman. And I found him sitting at a table not far from his room, playing poker. When I showed up he excused himself and we went to his rooms. The others were sleeping in the bed room and there were these windows between the two rooms that had blinds in them, blinds that were closed. And we sat there talking about his work, he was a session guitarist, when he said that he was playing Mejeriet with R.E.M soon. Mejeriet is, by the way, a venue in Lund that I've never been to and that is much too small for R.E.M, a band I don't really like. We agree that we should meet up at that gig and we keep talking. He tries to teach me how to pronounce his name - not that it was a great success - and then... well. There was some making out and removal of clothing. Aaaand then (here be one of the parts so weird that you're all going to think I'm deranged), for some reason, I was leaning over the bath tub and he was rinsing my hair, as if I'd had schampoo in it or something (which I hadn't). After this, I was in the bath tub and he was sitting next to it and we were kissing when I realised that the other people staying in that room
were watching us through the window. They were smiling. Not in a perverted way but more like "aww, our friend has finally found a girl". He got up to go in there and tell them to bugger off, or something, and I grabbed a towel and got out of the tub. My bra was on a table right next to the tub, except when I looked now there were ten bras, or something like that. I started looking for the one I felt sure I'd been wearing - because all of the other ones looked like other bras of mine. Thinking I must have remembered wrong I picked one up, and it was a 95 D (yup, European sizes, live with it) which is too big for me. Then I picked up another one which was "90A - for men" and I remember thinking "wtf???" in the dream before I put it back down and found the one I'd been wearing.
When I was dressed I felt a bit embarrassed and decided to head back to my room for some serious girl talk with Linnéa, who is really good at that stuff. But she's packing and says she has to go catch a train (apparently we're no longer on a ship, but at a hotel or something) to get home.* She says that she could ride with her parents in their car and leave thirty minutes later but that a car ride was probably the last thing her stomach flu needed. And then my mobile alarm clock went off and woke me up.
*As I typed this I had a recollection of a dream I must've had like six months ago where I was at this railway station that wasn't huge or anything, but had... Instead of tunnels running under the tracks that people could use to get to the platforms they had huge steel constructions with stairs and stuff to walk around. And it was dark out but this place was really well lit. I might have been chased by someone, because later in the same dream I remember being on a train, trying to run and hide from someone. Strange how thinking of some dreams brings back memories of other ones, isn't it?
So, that was my weird dream. The rinsing out my hair and bra for men was... well, weird. But I still maintain that Kit's dream that featured Peter Hammill speaking Swedish in a Scanian accent was weirder. I haven't dreamt about Peter Hammill for a long time. I hope I will soon. And I really hope that he's got his normal language and accent.
Though, at least my Frenchman was quite attractive. That's something, I guess.
OK. Once again the upcoming PT trip rears it's lovely head and this time things started out in the area I lived in between ages two and eleven. It was dark and Kit and I were waiting for the airport coach to arrive. I'm not sure what happened after we saw the bus arrive but then we were on this huge cruise ship, probably a lot like the one we'll be going on in March. Anyway, Beppo and Linnéa had joined us now, and why they were there I have no idea since this probably was a music cruise and we don't really listen to the same music.
I was off doing my own thing when I somehow ended up in this room that some people were staying in. It looked nothing like the real rooms on these ships, they had a really big living room - with a bath tub in one corner - and a really big bedroom next to it. The people staying there were some male musicians, their kids and these two girls who were their assistants (yes, they really were assistants and nothing else, though I have no idea why these guys needed them). One of the guys was supposedly French, though he had this really odd name that he actually had to write down for me to be able to learn it. One first name, two last names. He was living in India, though clearly not Indian, he had long, black hair in a pony tail, and it was quite curly. I'd say he was about 35-40 years old and judging by the teeth he was British (pardon my dental humour, but his teeth were not... bad, but certainly he didn't have that store-bought Hollywood smile), and he had a son who was about nine and had blond hair (and spoke British English). I remember that he was a widower (the man, not the boy), but I don't think he ever really told me, somehow I found out though. So me and French-British-Indian guy got on really well and then I left when it got really late.
Now, here some weird stuff comes in. Somehow, I know there was an earthquake. I think some of the interiors of the boat took some damage, but no one talked about it and everything else was fine. And I never made it back to our room because I met this man on the stairs going down who told me that Beppo had gotten really drunk and vomited on Kit's clothes and she was now washing them in the toilet. So I figured "fuck this" and headed back up to look for my Frenchman. And I found him sitting at a table not far from his room, playing poker. When I showed up he excused himself and we went to his rooms. The others were sleeping in the bed room and there were these windows between the two rooms that had blinds in them, blinds that were closed. And we sat there talking about his work, he was a session guitarist, when he said that he was playing Mejeriet with R.E.M soon. Mejeriet is, by the way, a venue in Lund that I've never been to and that is much too small for R.E.M, a band I don't really like. We agree that we should meet up at that gig and we keep talking. He tries to teach me how to pronounce his name - not that it was a great success - and then... well. There was some making out and removal of clothing. Aaaand then (here be one of the parts so weird that you're all going to think I'm deranged), for some reason, I was leaning over the bath tub and he was rinsing my hair, as if I'd had schampoo in it or something (which I hadn't). After this, I was in the bath tub and he was sitting next to it and we were kissing when I realised that the other people staying in that room
were watching us through the window. They were smiling. Not in a perverted way but more like "aww, our friend has finally found a girl". He got up to go in there and tell them to bugger off, or something, and I grabbed a towel and got out of the tub. My bra was on a table right next to the tub, except when I looked now there were ten bras, or something like that. I started looking for the one I felt sure I'd been wearing - because all of the other ones looked like other bras of mine. Thinking I must have remembered wrong I picked one up, and it was a 95 D (yup, European sizes, live with it) which is too big for me. Then I picked up another one which was "90A - for men" and I remember thinking "wtf???" in the dream before I put it back down and found the one I'd been wearing.
When I was dressed I felt a bit embarrassed and decided to head back to my room for some serious girl talk with Linnéa, who is really good at that stuff. But she's packing and says she has to go catch a train (apparently we're no longer on a ship, but at a hotel or something) to get home.* She says that she could ride with her parents in their car and leave thirty minutes later but that a car ride was probably the last thing her stomach flu needed. And then my mobile alarm clock went off and woke me up.
*As I typed this I had a recollection of a dream I must've had like six months ago where I was at this railway station that wasn't huge or anything, but had... Instead of tunnels running under the tracks that people could use to get to the platforms they had huge steel constructions with stairs and stuff to walk around. And it was dark out but this place was really well lit. I might have been chased by someone, because later in the same dream I remember being on a train, trying to run and hide from someone. Strange how thinking of some dreams brings back memories of other ones, isn't it?
So, that was my weird dream. The rinsing out my hair and bra for men was... well, weird. But I still maintain that Kit's dream that featured Peter Hammill speaking Swedish in a Scanian accent was weirder. I haven't dreamt about Peter Hammill for a long time. I hope I will soon. And I really hope that he's got his normal language and accent.
Though, at least my Frenchman was quite attractive. That's something, I guess.
Wednesday 28 November 2007
The Dreams of November 27-28
I know for a fact that there were at least three dreams, but there's one I just can not remember at the moment, and the two I do remember are a bit blurry, but here goes:
In the first one I was in what could only be described as something that reminds me of a castle, but it was probably "our time", and not the Middle Ages or something. I think I may have been part of a royal family, but we were quite normal. I remember that it was really hot outside and that that the environment was very dry, definitely not Sweden. And for some reason an old class mate of mine was my brother and we were like... the king's children or something. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but somehow he... sort of fell down a well. Except it wasn't a well, it was more of a hatch in the ground and there was this enormous underground space there... and he was hanging from a rope or something. I have no idea why we didn't get him out, but we couldn't. And so we called in MacGyver. Yup. MacGyver. He did his thing and got my, sort of, brother out of the uhhh well-hatch-thingie.
Then I think there was perhaps some kind of segue (which would be the dream I can't remember) into the next one, because I remember me and my mum getting out of the car (her new car, again, I wonder why it keeps appearing in my dreams - I must really like that damn car) in Nässjö, where her parents live. And I'm not sure what happened next but I remember that we were playing a board game or something, and there was something about getting these little creatures around in a circle a number of times. Depending on which creature you had they had to make it around the board a different amount of times. Because they moved at different speeds, though you were still the person moving them around. I can't explain it but they both moved on their own and didn't. All of them were black and left little trails of black goo that vanished after a few seconds. They kind of reminded me of liquorice.
This is all I remember. For once, I really can not figure out what brought these dreams on. There's nothing in them I can relate to anything, really. Except going to my grandparents. Christmas is coming up so I'll be going there with my mum and my brother, but that's it. Anyone want to have a go at this one?
In the first one I was in what could only be described as something that reminds me of a castle, but it was probably "our time", and not the Middle Ages or something. I think I may have been part of a royal family, but we were quite normal. I remember that it was really hot outside and that that the environment was very dry, definitely not Sweden. And for some reason an old class mate of mine was my brother and we were like... the king's children or something. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but somehow he... sort of fell down a well. Except it wasn't a well, it was more of a hatch in the ground and there was this enormous underground space there... and he was hanging from a rope or something. I have no idea why we didn't get him out, but we couldn't. And so we called in MacGyver. Yup. MacGyver. He did his thing and got my, sort of, brother out of the uhhh well-hatch-thingie.
Then I think there was perhaps some kind of segue (which would be the dream I can't remember) into the next one, because I remember me and my mum getting out of the car (her new car, again, I wonder why it keeps appearing in my dreams - I must really like that damn car) in Nässjö, where her parents live. And I'm not sure what happened next but I remember that we were playing a board game or something, and there was something about getting these little creatures around in a circle a number of times. Depending on which creature you had they had to make it around the board a different amount of times. Because they moved at different speeds, though you were still the person moving them around. I can't explain it but they both moved on their own and didn't. All of them were black and left little trails of black goo that vanished after a few seconds. They kind of reminded me of liquorice.
This is all I remember. For once, I really can not figure out what brought these dreams on. There's nothing in them I can relate to anything, really. Except going to my grandparents. Christmas is coming up so I'll be going there with my mum and my brother, but that's it. Anyone want to have a go at this one?
Tuesday 13 November 2007
The Dream of November 12-13
Well, boys and girls, it's Porcupine Tree tour season. You know what that means? Yup. Loads, and loads of odd, scary and totally weird Porcupine Tree gig-dreams for me. Bus drivers go on strike, blizzards ground all flights to the UK, RyanAir goes bankrupt and we're nuked, band members get sick and postpone all December UK gigs... I tell you, the upcoming trip is going to give me ulcers. Especially since there has been no word on the tickets yet. Fucking seetickets idiots. How hard is it to reply to an e-mail and give an update on the tickets? Do they not have opposable thumbs?
Aaaaanyway. So, I had this dream that was... Well, I have to clear some things up first. This gig was always in a small venue in what looked like this old barn-like place. But the mood kept changing for me. At first it was as if it was just a regular PT gig, and Kit and I were so excited, but there were technical problems. Then the mood shifted and suddenly this was a PT gig like... ten years ago and the band was unknown, getting screwed over by the venue and promoter, and Kit and I did not know each other (although we were the same ages we are now).
Before the gig started, there were hardly any people in the venue, and we talked to Steven for a while up front by the stage. And it was really cool because we weren't nervous in the slightest and just had a really nice conversation with him. We've talked to Steven and the rest of the band several times, and while it's a lot easier now we still do feel reeeaaally nervous, which is why I vividly remember how wonderful this conversation was.
After we'd talked the band played and there were problems or something and they had to take a break. Everyone got frustrated and we weren't sure what was going on. When they came back the mood had changed and it was ten years earlier, the band was different - even though they were still their present day selves and Gavin and Wes were there - and Kit was a total stranger to me. There was this crazy old woman behind me that I talked to, she had no clue who this band was, she just happened to live in the rural area that the gig took place in. It was up north, in a province called Dalarna (sometimes referred to as Dalecarlia in English) - that I've never been to - and in my dream all the people there were cracked. I was the only one who was there for the band, well, Kit probably was too, but at this point I didn't know her.
They took another break, during which more scary people talked to me, and then they came back on. After a few more songs, and a few more problems I suddenly saw SW with this advent calendar thing. And he opened the 24th "door" and read the name of what sounded like a snapsvisa, in quite impressive Swedish pronounciation. Apparently, the fact that this was written in the advent calendar meant that they had to play it. I do not know if they did, I suppose I would have remembered, and then they finished the gig and I got to talk a bit to SW. I said it was such a shame that they'd pulled out that snapsvisa for no good reason. He said that promoters in some countries did that a lot to them and that they had to put up with it. Apparently it was also quite common in Poland. I suggested that next time they should just tell the promoter to fuck off. At this point I think I suggested a couple of fitting phrases in Swedish that could be used for this purpose, and SW had no problem with them, he must've picked up on a lot of Swedish while working with Opeth and Paatos. Then he excused himself and said the band had to leave now, and just before he left I called out to him and told him that the only phrase I knew in Polish might help when Polish promoters tried the same thing. He asked what it was, I told him, and he asked me to repeat it. Clearly his Polish wasn't as good as his Swedish. So I did and he wondered what it meant. I told him that it means "you're a fucking dick". And, this actually IS the only phrase I know how to say in Polish (can't type it though, sorry).
Again, the mood shifted, and now Kit and I were leaving the messed up gig. The mood was so subdued that I think in this alternate-universe-mood the band had said they'd never play in Sweden again. Stupid Sweden.
Aaaaanyway. So, I had this dream that was... Well, I have to clear some things up first. This gig was always in a small venue in what looked like this old barn-like place. But the mood kept changing for me. At first it was as if it was just a regular PT gig, and Kit and I were so excited, but there were technical problems. Then the mood shifted and suddenly this was a PT gig like... ten years ago and the band was unknown, getting screwed over by the venue and promoter, and Kit and I did not know each other (although we were the same ages we are now).
Before the gig started, there were hardly any people in the venue, and we talked to Steven for a while up front by the stage. And it was really cool because we weren't nervous in the slightest and just had a really nice conversation with him. We've talked to Steven and the rest of the band several times, and while it's a lot easier now we still do feel reeeaaally nervous, which is why I vividly remember how wonderful this conversation was.
After we'd talked the band played and there were problems or something and they had to take a break. Everyone got frustrated and we weren't sure what was going on. When they came back the mood had changed and it was ten years earlier, the band was different - even though they were still their present day selves and Gavin and Wes were there - and Kit was a total stranger to me. There was this crazy old woman behind me that I talked to, she had no clue who this band was, she just happened to live in the rural area that the gig took place in. It was up north, in a province called Dalarna (sometimes referred to as Dalecarlia in English) - that I've never been to - and in my dream all the people there were cracked. I was the only one who was there for the band, well, Kit probably was too, but at this point I didn't know her.
They took another break, during which more scary people talked to me, and then they came back on. After a few more songs, and a few more problems I suddenly saw SW with this advent calendar thing. And he opened the 24th "door" and read the name of what sounded like a snapsvisa, in quite impressive Swedish pronounciation. Apparently, the fact that this was written in the advent calendar meant that they had to play it. I do not know if they did, I suppose I would have remembered, and then they finished the gig and I got to talk a bit to SW. I said it was such a shame that they'd pulled out that snapsvisa for no good reason. He said that promoters in some countries did that a lot to them and that they had to put up with it. Apparently it was also quite common in Poland. I suggested that next time they should just tell the promoter to fuck off. At this point I think I suggested a couple of fitting phrases in Swedish that could be used for this purpose, and SW had no problem with them, he must've picked up on a lot of Swedish while working with Opeth and Paatos. Then he excused himself and said the band had to leave now, and just before he left I called out to him and told him that the only phrase I knew in Polish might help when Polish promoters tried the same thing. He asked what it was, I told him, and he asked me to repeat it. Clearly his Polish wasn't as good as his Swedish. So I did and he wondered what it meant. I told him that it means "you're a fucking dick". And, this actually IS the only phrase I know how to say in Polish (can't type it though, sorry).
Again, the mood shifted, and now Kit and I were leaving the messed up gig. The mood was so subdued that I think in this alternate-universe-mood the band had said they'd never play in Sweden again. Stupid Sweden.
Monday 12 November 2007
The Dream of November 8-9
OK, so it's been a few days since I had this dream and I've been at Kit's and seen Riverside & Anekdoten since, but I did try to "go through" this dream inside my head several times to keep the details as clear as possible.
I was in high school, and for some reason it was this really small, all-girl school. In Sweden we have regular schools run by the municipalities and an increasing number of schools that are run privately. They don't cost money (in most cases at least) and they're usually focused on specific types of subjects. My school was one of these, though why it was all-girls I have no idea. In fact, the thought of going to an all-girl school horrifies me beyond belief.
Anyways, we were on a school trip of some sort. I think we might have been putting together some kind of Lucia celebration, but it could've been anything, really. We were in something that looked a lot like a warehouse. I think there was a boy there that I noticed for some reason, there might have been a conversation or something with him, but this part has become too blurry for me to retell. However, I did see two men in their mid-thirties there and at the time I didn't think anything of them. Just two men, one of them was Asian and one was African.
Something happens, I don't know what, or how, but suddenly I find myself in a house. There's a view from my window and I am very unfamiliar with the surroundings, but I know that I've been kidnapped. For some reason they haven't taken my mobile so I dial 112 (the emergency number in Sweden) and it doesn't work properly. I have no idea what's going on at first, but then for some reason I find out that I'm in Sudan and I dial 00 46 112, hoping that the international access code of Sudan is 00 like in most other countries. Apparently it is, at least in my dreamworld. And when someone answers I tell them my name, personal ID number (everyone in Sweden has one) and that I've been kidnapped and I'm in Sudan, but that I was at school in Norrköping (a town I've never lived in) when it happened. The woman on the other line laughs at me. "This is the emergency number for Uppsala!" Then one of us hangs up.
A few days pass by, someone puts a plate of food under my door every now and then and when I wake up one morning I look out of the window and the view is different. I'm in Hong Kong. I call again, and tell them whatever information I might have left out last time and that I've been moved to Hong Kong - anything that might help them find me there. Nothing. No one believes me.
A few more days go by and I look out the window. I'm in the country-side, in what looks like Sweden. And I realise that the room has never changed, even though the view has. From what I understand, they've been drugging me and I've been hallucinating different environments - probably based on the ethnicities of the two men who kidnapped me. And, again, I call for help and I know that in the end they were caught. But I think I managed to escape on my own first (not sure though, I can't remember actually escaping from the house), because I remember seeing this... place somewhere that has been in my dreams before. It looks like a mixture of three different places I've been to in real life. There's a gravel road with houses on the left side of it, and a field on the right. It goes up a slope and turns a bit to the right, past another house, and I think it leads to the house I was held in. But that same place has appeared before in dreams of mine, I'm certain of it. And the weird part is, as I look up towards the end of that road I can hear myself breathe. Drawing fast and heavy breaths, and my heart is always beating very fast.
I think I may have run from something there before. I'm desperately trying to remember in what dream, or dreams, I've been to that place, but it's difficult. Somehow I'm certain that a detailed dream has taken place there, but I think it's been six months, at least, since I had it. Damn. Should've started this blog earlier. (:-P
I was in high school, and for some reason it was this really small, all-girl school. In Sweden we have regular schools run by the municipalities and an increasing number of schools that are run privately. They don't cost money (in most cases at least) and they're usually focused on specific types of subjects. My school was one of these, though why it was all-girls I have no idea. In fact, the thought of going to an all-girl school horrifies me beyond belief.
Anyways, we were on a school trip of some sort. I think we might have been putting together some kind of Lucia celebration, but it could've been anything, really. We were in something that looked a lot like a warehouse. I think there was a boy there that I noticed for some reason, there might have been a conversation or something with him, but this part has become too blurry for me to retell. However, I did see two men in their mid-thirties there and at the time I didn't think anything of them. Just two men, one of them was Asian and one was African.
Something happens, I don't know what, or how, but suddenly I find myself in a house. There's a view from my window and I am very unfamiliar with the surroundings, but I know that I've been kidnapped. For some reason they haven't taken my mobile so I dial 112 (the emergency number in Sweden) and it doesn't work properly. I have no idea what's going on at first, but then for some reason I find out that I'm in Sudan and I dial 00 46 112, hoping that the international access code of Sudan is 00 like in most other countries. Apparently it is, at least in my dreamworld. And when someone answers I tell them my name, personal ID number (everyone in Sweden has one) and that I've been kidnapped and I'm in Sudan, but that I was at school in Norrköping (a town I've never lived in) when it happened. The woman on the other line laughs at me. "This is the emergency number for Uppsala!" Then one of us hangs up.
A few days pass by, someone puts a plate of food under my door every now and then and when I wake up one morning I look out of the window and the view is different. I'm in Hong Kong. I call again, and tell them whatever information I might have left out last time and that I've been moved to Hong Kong - anything that might help them find me there. Nothing. No one believes me.
A few more days go by and I look out the window. I'm in the country-side, in what looks like Sweden. And I realise that the room has never changed, even though the view has. From what I understand, they've been drugging me and I've been hallucinating different environments - probably based on the ethnicities of the two men who kidnapped me. And, again, I call for help and I know that in the end they were caught. But I think I managed to escape on my own first (not sure though, I can't remember actually escaping from the house), because I remember seeing this... place somewhere that has been in my dreams before. It looks like a mixture of three different places I've been to in real life. There's a gravel road with houses on the left side of it, and a field on the right. It goes up a slope and turns a bit to the right, past another house, and I think it leads to the house I was held in. But that same place has appeared before in dreams of mine, I'm certain of it. And the weird part is, as I look up towards the end of that road I can hear myself breathe. Drawing fast and heavy breaths, and my heart is always beating very fast.
I think I may have run from something there before. I'm desperately trying to remember in what dream, or dreams, I've been to that place, but it's difficult. Somehow I'm certain that a detailed dream has taken place there, but I think it's been six months, at least, since I had it. Damn. Should've started this blog earlier. (:-P
Thursday 1 November 2007
The Dream of October 31 - November 1
So, this dream began with me and Kit piloting a commercial airplane. Huge thing, much larger than the RyanAir ones I'm used to. And it was maroon, not sure that matters, but still. Apparently my art class was going somewhere, because both my professors and all the people in my class were on the plane. Why Kit was there, I have no idea. Nor why we were the ones flying the damn thing. The really odd thing (well, ONE of the really odd things) was that we were indoors when we were preparing for takeoff. Like in a long, huge corridor. And we were not on the ground floor of the building, but on the second floor, making this even weirder. The building had a roof that covered it all the way to the end of the landing strip where there was no wall or anything. It was as if someone had just torn off the wall and the building ended there. And still we were supposed to get the plane to take off at the exact end of the runway, otherwise the plane would fall down to the ground when we reached the end. If you know me and Kit at all you will probably have realised by now that that's exactly what happened. And my teachers, my class... They were all yelling att me, telling me I fucked up and that I'd ruined the school trip. The plane was still fine, the ten feet drop had done nothing to damage it, and we were on this road right by a huge lake. There was a bridge across it and I suggested we try to take off from the bridge instead. Again, people yelled at me. This time for my stupid ideas. So I said: "Well, let's just... drive out on the bridge and go to Visingsö!" Visingsö is an island in the middle of Lake Vättern, the second largest lake in Sweden. I grew up in Jönköping, at the southern tip of that lake and I can tell you that there is no bridge to that island. But still, we went on the bridge in our plane.
Now, we've arrived on the island and we're looking around. It would make sense that we'd be going to view art or architecture, but suddenly we were in this huge place that held a whole bunch of smaller buildings inside it. They were fairly large, but not large enough to fit what the doors to them actually claimed they contained. The sets of pretty much every American daytime soap there is + a few more that don't exist, that I just made up. So we start sprinting down the "street" to look at every little house and see which ones are there. After six or seven of them we reached a much smaller one that didn't have the name of a soap on it, but actually the name of an actor. I don't really know his name and I didn't in the dream either, I just knew who he was anyway. The guy who plays "Renegade". That weirdo... outlaw, or whatever he was, from the TV series with the same name. You know, that 80's one where everyone has weird hair. For some reason, I decide that it would be so much fun to kick down his door, and no doubt he would be impressed. Behind me someone, not Kit, is shouting that I shouldn't. But still I do, and the second the door has been kicked down I know it was a mistake and I run. Not far, just to the sofa that's just nearby. There's a table too, and on the other side is a chair with a woman sitting on it. Then there are shouts from the room of the actor and I hear running steps from somewhere else, and more shouting.
"What the hell?!" said the voice from the room.
"It's all right, it was just a mistake!" shouts one of the two men who are running towards the room.
"Who are those girls? Give me one good reason not to shoot them!" says the man who has emerged from the actor's dressing room - only it's not the dude from Renegade, it's someone I've never seen before.
However, the two men who came running are the dude from Renegade and his sidekick, you know, the native American guy with the even goofier hair. And now I realise it's not the actors, but the actual characters.
"That one...", says Renegade, indicating the woman in the chair, "is my wife."
"And the other one...", says the sidekick dude, "is my girlfriend."
Now, I know that what he said saved my life and I ought to be grateful, but still, all I can do is to, very loudly, blurt out: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW!!!!!" at the thought of us being a couple.
And then I woke up.
Now, we've arrived on the island and we're looking around. It would make sense that we'd be going to view art or architecture, but suddenly we were in this huge place that held a whole bunch of smaller buildings inside it. They were fairly large, but not large enough to fit what the doors to them actually claimed they contained. The sets of pretty much every American daytime soap there is + a few more that don't exist, that I just made up. So we start sprinting down the "street" to look at every little house and see which ones are there. After six or seven of them we reached a much smaller one that didn't have the name of a soap on it, but actually the name of an actor. I don't really know his name and I didn't in the dream either, I just knew who he was anyway. The guy who plays "Renegade". That weirdo... outlaw, or whatever he was, from the TV series with the same name. You know, that 80's one where everyone has weird hair. For some reason, I decide that it would be so much fun to kick down his door, and no doubt he would be impressed. Behind me someone, not Kit, is shouting that I shouldn't. But still I do, and the second the door has been kicked down I know it was a mistake and I run. Not far, just to the sofa that's just nearby. There's a table too, and on the other side is a chair with a woman sitting on it. Then there are shouts from the room of the actor and I hear running steps from somewhere else, and more shouting.
"What the hell?!" said the voice from the room.
"It's all right, it was just a mistake!" shouts one of the two men who are running towards the room.
"Who are those girls? Give me one good reason not to shoot them!" says the man who has emerged from the actor's dressing room - only it's not the dude from Renegade, it's someone I've never seen before.
However, the two men who came running are the dude from Renegade and his sidekick, you know, the native American guy with the even goofier hair. And now I realise it's not the actors, but the actual characters.
"That one...", says Renegade, indicating the woman in the chair, "is my wife."
"And the other one...", says the sidekick dude, "is my girlfriend."
Now, I know that what he said saved my life and I ought to be grateful, but still, all I can do is to, very loudly, blurt out: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW!!!!!" at the thought of us being a couple.
And then I woke up.
Saturday 20 October 2007
The Dream of October 20th, approx. 3am - 4am CET
I just awoke from this dream about half an hour ago and I think I need to get it out of my system before I try to sleep again, because just now - as soon as I started to drift off - I wound up right back inside it, even before I was even fully asleep. And it's not a funny dream, well, perhaps parts of it might seem to someone who just reads it, but every moment of it was drenched in anxiety, fear and nausea. I'll make little comments about how things relate to reality as I go along, since it seems necessary this time.
It started off all right, I think I was having a dream inside my dream - or it was its own dream and I just was aware of the fact that it was not real as the second dream started. I dreamt that Rush were playing (as they will on October 27th) but that they played completely different songs from their real ones. I vividly remember that they were playing "What's the colour of love?" (a song performed by two Swedish women sometime in the late 80's, I think. It's also a song my choir sings occasionally and I went to a party with my choir last night) and they were really upset with me - or possibly the whole crowd - for not knowing and singing along to the songs (odd, since after singing this one with my choir, I know it a lot better than most Rush songs). I think they stormed off the stage and that most of my friends who were at the gig blamed me for it. Kit, Magnus, Cristoffer, Claes, Harald - and loads of others.
Then the second dream began, or I awoke from this one in my dream. And I was so frightened of this happening that I began to search frantically for Rush songs on my comp to learn them. But at the same time I had a lot of other things going on too - stories I was reading online, and videos I was watching. I think that one of the stories had some kind of sexual content. There was something weird about how I was feeling, and I remember that details of the dream were sort of swimming together and I know that Rush somehow got affected by this in my dream. I definitely didn't dream that I was having sex with them or imagining that I was in the dream, but I am very certain that there was something about that, even if it's something untangible (It's important to straighten out that there was something sexual about one of those stories since something later in the dream will be affected by it). I remember that one of the videos I had going on youtube was a man talking on a grassy hill with a tree that was overlooking the ocean and it was quite windy there.
At some point, the focus shifts from what is happening on the computer to what is happening in the room, and I somehow become aware that not everything is right. I'm living in a room that seems to be on a floor that's more of an attic of this old house, the walls are wooden and the ceiling is at an angle (I don't know how to describe this in English, really, except point out that the ceiling was higher in one end of the room and lower in another - not just flat and at the same distance from the floor in every part of the room). I'm not sure if I exit the room first or not, and I'm not sure if we say anything before this, but I start talking loudly to my mum who is in the room next to mine and at some point she says:
'I know it's really warm, but just try to sleep!'
and I, who had not even noticed anything odd in temperature, go to check my thermometer, which is attached to a toilet in my room. It might be in a small bathroom that's sort of part of the room, I don't remember exactly, but it's still a very odd place to keep a thermometer and I think I realise this in the dream too. It's at 36,7 degrees celsius, I think. That's body temperature - so yes, it's warm as hell. And only now do I notice. Now that I have other things start to become apparent, like that the humidity and heat of the room have started to make items softer, and almost melt.The desk and computer screen have the texture of a very thick kind of paper that's been soaked in water. Next, I look up and see that the lamp on my ceiling has this little net attached around it, and inside them are bugs. Big ones. They've got a dirty kind of yellowish bodies that are about the size and shapes of large cigars, and wings so they're flying around in there. It's not a big net as such, and there are quite a few bugs so it's cramped. I alert my mother about this, fear making my heart beat faster and increasing my dread, unease and nausea about the whole situation in the dream.
'Which bugs? The large yellow ones flying around the lamps?' she then yelled from inside her room.
'Yes!'
'Oh, they're harmless! I'm more concerned about the big black ones crawling around under my bed.'
My breathing is really fast now and I know that I'm almost in tears, I'm so afraid. And I get on my knees and look under the bed - but I can't for the life of me remember if I found any bugs under there. I probably did, because I remember what those black ones looked like. They were like crayfish, only not quite so large (though, close enough to make them absolutely horrifying). And I storm into my mother's room without knocking. I remember thinking that this was wrong but at the same time she didn't say anything about it. Though, I have the same kind of hazy recollection of her doing something that I didn't want to interrupt, or not want to see or... I have no idea what - nothing perverted or anything, just something private. Just that sense of having bothered someone.
'What the hell are we going to do?' I asked, in a pleading voice.
'It'll be all right,' she says, but I am convinced that it won't be.
When I exit the room someone comes out of the room opposite hers. There's this little area by the stairs with no decorations except an ugly old rug of some kind, and another lamp on the ceiling with a net and trapped yellow bugs in it. There are four or five doors up there and the person who comes out is my mother's tenant. I know this, and this is probably the only part that I can, now, think about and see the humour in without being reminded about the way I felt throughout the dream. The tenant is Dennis Rodman. Yup. And in the dream it's the most natural thing in the world to have the NBA hero renting a room in my mum's old house. He wonders what all the loud talking is all about and does not seem bothered by any of the things wrong with the house.
I go back to my room and now my brother has joined me and he's noticed that I have a lot of stuff going on with my comp.
'Whoa, you need to upgrade your [enter name of some weird software that makes everything run smoother and definitely does not exist]! There's a new version out, it's great!'
'Not now, I'll do it later!' I reply, in a forbidding voice since I am aware of the story (or whatever it was) of a sexual nature that I still have open in word, or firefox.
'But see here, look!' he says, and he's opened a picture of the tray icon of the new, updated version of the software, 'Look at this oven - it's so much better than the old oven!'
Yes, I know. Oven? But for some reason, this makes perfect sense. The tray icon picture is definitely the picture of an oven - even though it's not, I can even sort of describe it. It was black with some red bits in it, the bottom half of the icon is mostly red - and all that redness illustrates how good the software is, compared to my old "oven" which is black and green - and the green in the black is much more sparse than the red ones on his version. Yeah, OK, this was funny too - but remember that in this dream not only did this software make sense to me, but I was also in a excruciatingly hot and humid room with bugs the size of my hands in it, a toilet with a thermometer. All this in an old, wooden house that also had Dennis Rodman living in it. Yeah, OK, the whole scenario is hilarious - but I was so frightened, and felt so sick and afraid in the dream - I felt worse than I have in any dream for a long time.
While my brother was updating that software I walked over to the only window in the room and found that my view was that same grassy hill with a tree that I had seen in the video on Youtube, and I had not been aware of this before. Then I sat down on the floor and a kitten walks up to me, it's eight weeks old (approx.) and I know that I have stolen it from a girl who was my best friend when I was ten but who later moved and we lost contact, running into each other just once a few years ago. The kitten (which by the way is white and grey, definitely REAL and in reality belongs to my brother's girlfriend - though it's a bit older now) walks up to me like it wants to be stroked or cuddled, but at first I ignore it. But as it turns to walk away I realise that I want to cuddle it and reach out to grab it. As I do, it apparently decides that it doesn't want to be cuddled and tries to walk away from my hand, and I tighten my grip to seize it and lift it up. But, and this was SO horrible in the dream, my grip isn't on the body right behind the front legs, where I would normally hold a kitten that I want to lift. I squeeze tha back of its body instead and I squeezed too hard. I remember that I could feel the internal organs through it's skin and fur and bile rose in my throat. The kitten seemed unharmed though and I immediately put it in my lap to make sure it was all right. By now, my brother had also sat down on the floor right opposite me. The kitten leaves my lap to go to my brother instead. I remember telling him that I've borrowed the cat and will be watching it for a few days.
'Oh,' he says, and that's the last thing I remember before waking up.
And now I'm supposed to be getting up in an hour to take a shower, pack a few things, and catch a train to Gävle with my friend Beppo. I had trouble falling asleep in the first place and as I mentioned couldn't shake the dream environment as I was trying to fall back to sleep before. But I'll try again now, maybe I can get half an hour of shut-eye.
Anyways, here's hoping the next dream is more pleasant but equally weird.
I am SO not reading all this through to check for mistakes and typos, even when I do I've noticed I miss loads of them. Perhaps something about just having awoken and hurrying to type out one's dreams before they are forgotten makes those mistakes a bit more frequent than they normally are. (:-P
It started off all right, I think I was having a dream inside my dream - or it was its own dream and I just was aware of the fact that it was not real as the second dream started. I dreamt that Rush were playing (as they will on October 27th) but that they played completely different songs from their real ones. I vividly remember that they were playing "What's the colour of love?" (a song performed by two Swedish women sometime in the late 80's, I think. It's also a song my choir sings occasionally and I went to a party with my choir last night) and they were really upset with me - or possibly the whole crowd - for not knowing and singing along to the songs (odd, since after singing this one with my choir, I know it a lot better than most Rush songs). I think they stormed off the stage and that most of my friends who were at the gig blamed me for it. Kit, Magnus, Cristoffer, Claes, Harald - and loads of others.
Then the second dream began, or I awoke from this one in my dream. And I was so frightened of this happening that I began to search frantically for Rush songs on my comp to learn them. But at the same time I had a lot of other things going on too - stories I was reading online, and videos I was watching. I think that one of the stories had some kind of sexual content. There was something weird about how I was feeling, and I remember that details of the dream were sort of swimming together and I know that Rush somehow got affected by this in my dream. I definitely didn't dream that I was having sex with them or imagining that I was in the dream, but I am very certain that there was something about that, even if it's something untangible (It's important to straighten out that there was something sexual about one of those stories since something later in the dream will be affected by it). I remember that one of the videos I had going on youtube was a man talking on a grassy hill with a tree that was overlooking the ocean and it was quite windy there.
At some point, the focus shifts from what is happening on the computer to what is happening in the room, and I somehow become aware that not everything is right. I'm living in a room that seems to be on a floor that's more of an attic of this old house, the walls are wooden and the ceiling is at an angle (I don't know how to describe this in English, really, except point out that the ceiling was higher in one end of the room and lower in another - not just flat and at the same distance from the floor in every part of the room). I'm not sure if I exit the room first or not, and I'm not sure if we say anything before this, but I start talking loudly to my mum who is in the room next to mine and at some point she says:
'I know it's really warm, but just try to sleep!'
and I, who had not even noticed anything odd in temperature, go to check my thermometer, which is attached to a toilet in my room. It might be in a small bathroom that's sort of part of the room, I don't remember exactly, but it's still a very odd place to keep a thermometer and I think I realise this in the dream too. It's at 36,7 degrees celsius, I think. That's body temperature - so yes, it's warm as hell. And only now do I notice. Now that I have other things start to become apparent, like that the humidity and heat of the room have started to make items softer, and almost melt.The desk and computer screen have the texture of a very thick kind of paper that's been soaked in water. Next, I look up and see that the lamp on my ceiling has this little net attached around it, and inside them are bugs. Big ones. They've got a dirty kind of yellowish bodies that are about the size and shapes of large cigars, and wings so they're flying around in there. It's not a big net as such, and there are quite a few bugs so it's cramped. I alert my mother about this, fear making my heart beat faster and increasing my dread, unease and nausea about the whole situation in the dream.
'Which bugs? The large yellow ones flying around the lamps?' she then yelled from inside her room.
'Yes!'
'Oh, they're harmless! I'm more concerned about the big black ones crawling around under my bed.'
My breathing is really fast now and I know that I'm almost in tears, I'm so afraid. And I get on my knees and look under the bed - but I can't for the life of me remember if I found any bugs under there. I probably did, because I remember what those black ones looked like. They were like crayfish, only not quite so large (though, close enough to make them absolutely horrifying). And I storm into my mother's room without knocking. I remember thinking that this was wrong but at the same time she didn't say anything about it. Though, I have the same kind of hazy recollection of her doing something that I didn't want to interrupt, or not want to see or... I have no idea what - nothing perverted or anything, just something private. Just that sense of having bothered someone.
'What the hell are we going to do?' I asked, in a pleading voice.
'It'll be all right,' she says, but I am convinced that it won't be.
When I exit the room someone comes out of the room opposite hers. There's this little area by the stairs with no decorations except an ugly old rug of some kind, and another lamp on the ceiling with a net and trapped yellow bugs in it. There are four or five doors up there and the person who comes out is my mother's tenant. I know this, and this is probably the only part that I can, now, think about and see the humour in without being reminded about the way I felt throughout the dream. The tenant is Dennis Rodman. Yup. And in the dream it's the most natural thing in the world to have the NBA hero renting a room in my mum's old house. He wonders what all the loud talking is all about and does not seem bothered by any of the things wrong with the house.
I go back to my room and now my brother has joined me and he's noticed that I have a lot of stuff going on with my comp.
'Whoa, you need to upgrade your [enter name of some weird software that makes everything run smoother and definitely does not exist]! There's a new version out, it's great!'
'Not now, I'll do it later!' I reply, in a forbidding voice since I am aware of the story (or whatever it was) of a sexual nature that I still have open in word, or firefox.
'But see here, look!' he says, and he's opened a picture of the tray icon of the new, updated version of the software, 'Look at this oven - it's so much better than the old oven!'
Yes, I know. Oven? But for some reason, this makes perfect sense. The tray icon picture is definitely the picture of an oven - even though it's not, I can even sort of describe it. It was black with some red bits in it, the bottom half of the icon is mostly red - and all that redness illustrates how good the software is, compared to my old "oven" which is black and green - and the green in the black is much more sparse than the red ones on his version. Yeah, OK, this was funny too - but remember that in this dream not only did this software make sense to me, but I was also in a excruciatingly hot and humid room with bugs the size of my hands in it, a toilet with a thermometer. All this in an old, wooden house that also had Dennis Rodman living in it. Yeah, OK, the whole scenario is hilarious - but I was so frightened, and felt so sick and afraid in the dream - I felt worse than I have in any dream for a long time.
While my brother was updating that software I walked over to the only window in the room and found that my view was that same grassy hill with a tree that I had seen in the video on Youtube, and I had not been aware of this before. Then I sat down on the floor and a kitten walks up to me, it's eight weeks old (approx.) and I know that I have stolen it from a girl who was my best friend when I was ten but who later moved and we lost contact, running into each other just once a few years ago. The kitten (which by the way is white and grey, definitely REAL and in reality belongs to my brother's girlfriend - though it's a bit older now) walks up to me like it wants to be stroked or cuddled, but at first I ignore it. But as it turns to walk away I realise that I want to cuddle it and reach out to grab it. As I do, it apparently decides that it doesn't want to be cuddled and tries to walk away from my hand, and I tighten my grip to seize it and lift it up. But, and this was SO horrible in the dream, my grip isn't on the body right behind the front legs, where I would normally hold a kitten that I want to lift. I squeeze tha back of its body instead and I squeezed too hard. I remember that I could feel the internal organs through it's skin and fur and bile rose in my throat. The kitten seemed unharmed though and I immediately put it in my lap to make sure it was all right. By now, my brother had also sat down on the floor right opposite me. The kitten leaves my lap to go to my brother instead. I remember telling him that I've borrowed the cat and will be watching it for a few days.
'Oh,' he says, and that's the last thing I remember before waking up.
And now I'm supposed to be getting up in an hour to take a shower, pack a few things, and catch a train to Gävle with my friend Beppo. I had trouble falling asleep in the first place and as I mentioned couldn't shake the dream environment as I was trying to fall back to sleep before. But I'll try again now, maybe I can get half an hour of shut-eye.
Anyways, here's hoping the next dream is more pleasant but equally weird.
I am SO not reading all this through to check for mistakes and typos, even when I do I've noticed I miss loads of them. Perhaps something about just having awoken and hurrying to type out one's dreams before they are forgotten makes those mistakes a bit more frequent than they normally are. (:-P
Sunday 14 October 2007
The Dream of an unknown October night
I don't remember exactly when this was, and the dream is very short. But after retelling it to Kit, who played a major role in it and getting positive feedback I have to post it. (:-)
I'm in a church, a small one, probably early 19th century - the decor is made only of wood. The seats are old-fashioned pews, you know, wide benches on each side that have little wooden doors you have to open to take a seat. I'm in a wedding dress and I'm marrying a musician. I don't think it's a "real" musician, I'm fairly certain that he was fictional. Anyway, we're walking down the aisle, slowly, to the music. The song playing is "Get Down" by the Backstreet Boys (now there's the 'go figure' of the century), and everyone is turning to look at us as we walk past them, but they're all still seated. Big, friendly smiles covering all of their face. Except for Kit, who is grinning like an idiot from her seat right by the aisle. And when I walk past her she jumps up and yells "HIGH FIVE!!!". So I high five her and we burst out laughing. We're laughing the way we usually do after spending a few days 'on the road' together and not getting enough sleep as we're on buses from town to town, checking out gigs. And then I wake up.
When I told Kit about this dream she informed me that she will most definitely do this if I ever do get married. I won't mind, weddings are usually too uptight anyway. (:-)
I'm in a church, a small one, probably early 19th century - the decor is made only of wood. The seats are old-fashioned pews, you know, wide benches on each side that have little wooden doors you have to open to take a seat. I'm in a wedding dress and I'm marrying a musician. I don't think it's a "real" musician, I'm fairly certain that he was fictional. Anyway, we're walking down the aisle, slowly, to the music. The song playing is "Get Down" by the Backstreet Boys (now there's the 'go figure' of the century), and everyone is turning to look at us as we walk past them, but they're all still seated. Big, friendly smiles covering all of their face. Except for Kit, who is grinning like an idiot from her seat right by the aisle. And when I walk past her she jumps up and yells "HIGH FIVE!!!". So I high five her and we burst out laughing. We're laughing the way we usually do after spending a few days 'on the road' together and not getting enough sleep as we're on buses from town to town, checking out gigs. And then I wake up.
When I told Kit about this dream she informed me that she will most definitely do this if I ever do get married. I won't mind, weddings are usually too uptight anyway. (:-)
Tuesday 25 September 2007
The Dream of September 24-25
In this dream I was talking to some exchange students, French guys. And they were talking about new exchange students coming in from France the next day. I offered to drive to the airport and pick them up. What a brilliant idea! It's not like I have a driver's license or a car... But for some reason I had my mum's old car in the dream, a 1990 Ford Fiesta (or Death Trap, whichever name you prefer).
Before I drove to the airport I ended up at this kid's birthday party. The only people there were me, the kid's mum and some bloke she was dating or something, and an whole bunch of kids. For some reason the potential step-father bought the kid a keyboard and the kid was pressing all the weid buttons he could find ending up with all sorts of horrible rhythms and then of course he couldn't play at all. The man who gave it to him was half-heartedly trying to play an actual melody at the same time, but failed to do so. Then he looked up at me, our eyes met and he gave me this odd look.
The dream shifts.
Now it's time to go to the airport, I get in the car and head for Skavsta, whick is about 80 minutes, or so, by car. For some reason, probably fear of having to park next to other cars and not managing that, I find a deserted parking lot a little further away from the airport. When I get out of the car I know exactly which way to go to get to Skavsta Airport. But then I get to this area enclosed by mountains, where there seems to be a camp of some sort. Teenagers, no doubt on the run from their families, seem to be living here and I just know they kill outsiders (I think I'm sort of familiar with them and their story). So I do my best to try to look a few years younger than I actually am and... well, more sulky than I actually am too. Somehow I make it through the camp.
Then I hear on the radio, which is odd since I didn't have one with me, that police have heard reports of a non-licensed driver in the area and are on the lookout, putting up some roadblocks and stuff. Now, the police in this province DO have far too much time on their hands, but this seems a bit extreme. And how did they know? I hadn't run into any trouble at all so far, so how on earth they knew I didn't have a license I have no idea. But I'm too scared to go to the airport, so I just head into the neighbouring town - Nyköping - instead. It looked just like the neighbourhood I lived in when I was a kid. And I've been to Nyköping a couple of times and I know what it looks like in real life.
I walk around there a little bit before deciding to head back home. The road blocks have been removed and I set off. The odd thing is, while I'm on the right road home, I get to this off-ramp with a roundabout that's nowhere near where I was, it's actually right where my mum lives - and that's southwest of my uni town, whereas I was norteast of my uni town in this dream. For some reason I pull off the motorway, knowing full well that it's the wrong way to go. But when I try to get back on it I end up on this tiny, tiny road right next to it. It ends by this museum, or something, which is right by a tube station. We most definitely do not have an underground system in either of the three towns I've been in during the course of this dream. I check out the old museum, which is full of lamps, and see two middle-aged men who look... well, progressive. As I always do when I see people like that I thought "cool, I wonder if they like prog?" and then kept looking at the old lamps. When I left out the front door there was this old lady sweeping up, and I know we talked, but I can not remember about what.
After this I'm on the phone with my mum. To make sure she doesn't suspect me of having the car I tell her I'm slightly tipsy. Just that, no story, nothing that makes sense - I'm just a bit tipsy. Suddenly I realise that I'm not by the car, but at the tube station. I sigh and sit down on the stairs by the platform and the two potenitally progressive men are there. So I ask them if they know how I get to the place I parked my car from there, but apparently they've heard me tell my mum that I was tipsy so the one with the long hair (one had long hair, one was bald) starts telling me how bad it is to drink and drive... ...using Van der Graaf Generator metaphors. At least now I knew they were prog fans. I think I left at this point, but I don't know where I went or what happened next.
At some point I woke up and that was that.
(then I checked MSN and found the following message from my friend Beppo: "Karin calls on the mobile, but the other end is silent when I answer... I check the time and discover that it's a full hour until she normally wakes up and realise that she's probably sleeping ON her mobile and hit the phone book by mistake")
That was true, btw. I must have switched off the alarm clock and fallen asleep on the phone. I haven't dared to check to see if I called anyone else yet, but probably not as Beppo's number was the last one I called before this incident. And to redial the last number called you only need to press the "dial" key twice on my phone.
I'm tired, and the weather sucks today. Last night, at 4 30 (in the morning) I chased this rather large wasp around my room, trying to kill it. I ended up shutting the groggy-looking beast in a cupboard, I hope he's died in there during the night. Otherwise he'll be angry and annoyed when I open.
DUN-DUN-DUUUUUN!
Before I drove to the airport I ended up at this kid's birthday party. The only people there were me, the kid's mum and some bloke she was dating or something, and an whole bunch of kids. For some reason the potential step-father bought the kid a keyboard and the kid was pressing all the weid buttons he could find ending up with all sorts of horrible rhythms and then of course he couldn't play at all. The man who gave it to him was half-heartedly trying to play an actual melody at the same time, but failed to do so. Then he looked up at me, our eyes met and he gave me this odd look.
The dream shifts.
Now it's time to go to the airport, I get in the car and head for Skavsta, whick is about 80 minutes, or so, by car. For some reason, probably fear of having to park next to other cars and not managing that, I find a deserted parking lot a little further away from the airport. When I get out of the car I know exactly which way to go to get to Skavsta Airport. But then I get to this area enclosed by mountains, where there seems to be a camp of some sort. Teenagers, no doubt on the run from their families, seem to be living here and I just know they kill outsiders (I think I'm sort of familiar with them and their story). So I do my best to try to look a few years younger than I actually am and... well, more sulky than I actually am too. Somehow I make it through the camp.
Then I hear on the radio, which is odd since I didn't have one with me, that police have heard reports of a non-licensed driver in the area and are on the lookout, putting up some roadblocks and stuff. Now, the police in this province DO have far too much time on their hands, but this seems a bit extreme. And how did they know? I hadn't run into any trouble at all so far, so how on earth they knew I didn't have a license I have no idea. But I'm too scared to go to the airport, so I just head into the neighbouring town - Nyköping - instead. It looked just like the neighbourhood I lived in when I was a kid. And I've been to Nyköping a couple of times and I know what it looks like in real life.
I walk around there a little bit before deciding to head back home. The road blocks have been removed and I set off. The odd thing is, while I'm on the right road home, I get to this off-ramp with a roundabout that's nowhere near where I was, it's actually right where my mum lives - and that's southwest of my uni town, whereas I was norteast of my uni town in this dream. For some reason I pull off the motorway, knowing full well that it's the wrong way to go. But when I try to get back on it I end up on this tiny, tiny road right next to it. It ends by this museum, or something, which is right by a tube station. We most definitely do not have an underground system in either of the three towns I've been in during the course of this dream. I check out the old museum, which is full of lamps, and see two middle-aged men who look... well, progressive. As I always do when I see people like that I thought "cool, I wonder if they like prog?" and then kept looking at the old lamps. When I left out the front door there was this old lady sweeping up, and I know we talked, but I can not remember about what.
After this I'm on the phone with my mum. To make sure she doesn't suspect me of having the car I tell her I'm slightly tipsy. Just that, no story, nothing that makes sense - I'm just a bit tipsy. Suddenly I realise that I'm not by the car, but at the tube station. I sigh and sit down on the stairs by the platform and the two potenitally progressive men are there. So I ask them if they know how I get to the place I parked my car from there, but apparently they've heard me tell my mum that I was tipsy so the one with the long hair (one had long hair, one was bald) starts telling me how bad it is to drink and drive... ...using Van der Graaf Generator metaphors. At least now I knew they were prog fans. I think I left at this point, but I don't know where I went or what happened next.
At some point I woke up and that was that.
(then I checked MSN and found the following message from my friend Beppo: "Karin calls on the mobile, but the other end is silent when I answer... I check the time and discover that it's a full hour until she normally wakes up and realise that she's probably sleeping ON her mobile and hit the phone book by mistake")
That was true, btw. I must have switched off the alarm clock and fallen asleep on the phone. I haven't dared to check to see if I called anyone else yet, but probably not as Beppo's number was the last one I called before this incident. And to redial the last number called you only need to press the "dial" key twice on my phone.
I'm tired, and the weather sucks today. Last night, at 4 30 (in the morning) I chased this rather large wasp around my room, trying to kill it. I ended up shutting the groggy-looking beast in a cupboard, I hope he's died in there during the night. Otherwise he'll be angry and annoyed when I open.
DUN-DUN-DUUUUUN!
Wednesday 5 September 2007
The Dream of September 4-5
All right, another weird one.
The first part I can remember is me sitting on a bench or something with a girl from my choir, and she's pregnant (this is the girl who had a son ago, and who asked me to sing at his christening - which I did). For some reason you can't really tell that she is although she's quite far along. I ask if she knows the sex of her baby and then she smiles and shakes her head, saying she can't find out. And I somehow know for a fact that there's nothing, you know, medical stopping her from finding out, but I don't push the point about it since I immediately think she has religious reasons (or something similar) for not finding out. Instead I just say that, "oh, you know if it were me I'd just find out as soon as I can so that there'd be no surprises or anything in the delivery room".
In the next scene we're joined by her husband, but her dream-husband doesn't look like her real life husband. We're on a street somewhere, and it's dark out. The street stretches on uphill and we start walking in that direction, but now I can't choir-friend anymore and her husband crosses the street to talk to a couple in their late 50s, presumably his parents, and I keep walking. When I reach the end of the street there's one of those really high fences with barbed wire at the top that you normally find around power stations and such places. There's a gate in it, or rather, a door and I want to get in, but can't. It's not that it's locked, it's that it won't open more than a couple of inches as there are huge, plastic barrels filled with some liquid (and therefore very heavy) blocking it. But somehow a man with a moustache, presumably someone who works in what I can now see looks to be a mine or something. Somehow, though I have no idea how, he manages to get inside. And after he has me and the people I'm with ('cause I know there are people behind me, but I don't remember who they are) manage to move the barrels and get inside.
I assume I went down into the mine because the next thing I remember is walking into this large open space with some small ponds in it and I know that behind me is a tight, underground path that I've just left. The walls are stone, and the ground is this reddish, powdery dirt (looks a bit like curry, but is actually real dirt). The whole space feels very warm because of the reddish colour of both floor (if one can call it that) and walls. There are loads of little spaces leading off from the "main room", that are just like dark, little dead ends and between then, against the walls, are these shelves with CDs and records. People are walking around, looking at them and talking, I suddenly I see that Stefan Dimle is one of them and I realise that this is Mellotronen Record Store. Stefan is walking across the room, there are quite a lot of people in there (even though it's so large it doesn't look crowded) but he does spot me and I smile and wave at him. But he doesn't smile or wave back, nor does he say anything, he just glances in my direction and walks on. I'm a little saddened by this as he normally says hello every time we meet. Now I walk across the room to the shelves by the other side.
When I get there there's another shift, and it's no longer Mellotronen (or it might still be but... well, read on). The first thing I see as I turn around by the opposite wall is a boy in the center of the room, fighting some little creatures that he's trying to kill. He does it and comes up to talk to me. At this point I'm not really sure if the other people and the records are still there, but I do not notice them anyways. The boy starts talking to me about my mount (in World of Warcraft you can buy mounts to ride on at higher levels, there's regular ones at lvl 40, fast ones at lvl 60 and flying ones at lvl 70), and I somehow know that I'm the highest level one can be bere, although I'm not sure what that is. And he's getting closer to it himself and wants some advice. And as we talk, more monsters to kill appear and when I look at the "action bar" of different kinds of attacks to make on the monsters I find that what I have are all the weapons from the game-series called "Worms" and I start throwing stuff at them. At one point I accidentally drop a mine by my feet and have to move quickly (I even think I hopped off the way the worms do), and after that I settle for the cluster bombs and start throwing those at the beasts until they die.
The place shifts back again and now there are two guys by the shelves I'm at (the prog section, of course) and one of 'em turns to me and goes: "I know you." "What?" I say.
"Yeah, I know you from the Internet. I've known you since you were a little kid, like five (*note* this is quite odd since I was five in 1990 and clearly not online at that point). Your online handle is Kendra."
"Errr, no?"
"Yes, it is." He started smiling, a little bit creepy-looking.
Then out of nowhere comes Kit and drags me off to look at the records, away from this guy. For some reason we browse through the different albums on one of those scroll menu things you get when you're filling out an online form, for instance, choosing your country of residency from a list. But we keep getting interrupted by different things. The last interruption I remember is my grandmother appearing out of nowhere to ask me if I've moved all my books out of her flat yet (which is odd in many ways since we rarely talk about books and I've never had any at her home), and I'm a bit... confused. But then, behind here, there is suddenly a rug with a pile of books on it and I assume they've got something to do with me and I now know the answer.
"Most of them, but there are a few left."
And then she starts talking about this one book that the owner has to rewrite by themselves and I think there's something odd about taking an ABBA-song and rewriting the lyrics for it to fit you (I know that "mine" was My Love, My Life but I don't know if that's the one everyone got or just me). And then I woke up. At some point, it seems, I had grabbed my mobile (which was ringing to wake me up as I had set the alarm on it) and turned it off because when I woke up it was underneath me, jammed quite painfully into my back.
A long one.
The first part I can remember is me sitting on a bench or something with a girl from my choir, and she's pregnant (this is the girl who had a son ago, and who asked me to sing at his christening - which I did). For some reason you can't really tell that she is although she's quite far along. I ask if she knows the sex of her baby and then she smiles and shakes her head, saying she can't find out. And I somehow know for a fact that there's nothing, you know, medical stopping her from finding out, but I don't push the point about it since I immediately think she has religious reasons (or something similar) for not finding out. Instead I just say that, "oh, you know if it were me I'd just find out as soon as I can so that there'd be no surprises or anything in the delivery room".
In the next scene we're joined by her husband, but her dream-husband doesn't look like her real life husband. We're on a street somewhere, and it's dark out. The street stretches on uphill and we start walking in that direction, but now I can't choir-friend anymore and her husband crosses the street to talk to a couple in their late 50s, presumably his parents, and I keep walking. When I reach the end of the street there's one of those really high fences with barbed wire at the top that you normally find around power stations and such places. There's a gate in it, or rather, a door and I want to get in, but can't. It's not that it's locked, it's that it won't open more than a couple of inches as there are huge, plastic barrels filled with some liquid (and therefore very heavy) blocking it. But somehow a man with a moustache, presumably someone who works in what I can now see looks to be a mine or something. Somehow, though I have no idea how, he manages to get inside. And after he has me and the people I'm with ('cause I know there are people behind me, but I don't remember who they are) manage to move the barrels and get inside.
I assume I went down into the mine because the next thing I remember is walking into this large open space with some small ponds in it and I know that behind me is a tight, underground path that I've just left. The walls are stone, and the ground is this reddish, powdery dirt (looks a bit like curry, but is actually real dirt). The whole space feels very warm because of the reddish colour of both floor (if one can call it that) and walls. There are loads of little spaces leading off from the "main room", that are just like dark, little dead ends and between then, against the walls, are these shelves with CDs and records. People are walking around, looking at them and talking, I suddenly I see that Stefan Dimle is one of them and I realise that this is Mellotronen Record Store. Stefan is walking across the room, there are quite a lot of people in there (even though it's so large it doesn't look crowded) but he does spot me and I smile and wave at him. But he doesn't smile or wave back, nor does he say anything, he just glances in my direction and walks on. I'm a little saddened by this as he normally says hello every time we meet. Now I walk across the room to the shelves by the other side.
When I get there there's another shift, and it's no longer Mellotronen (or it might still be but... well, read on). The first thing I see as I turn around by the opposite wall is a boy in the center of the room, fighting some little creatures that he's trying to kill. He does it and comes up to talk to me. At this point I'm not really sure if the other people and the records are still there, but I do not notice them anyways. The boy starts talking to me about my mount (in World of Warcraft you can buy mounts to ride on at higher levels, there's regular ones at lvl 40, fast ones at lvl 60 and flying ones at lvl 70), and I somehow know that I'm the highest level one can be bere, although I'm not sure what that is. And he's getting closer to it himself and wants some advice. And as we talk, more monsters to kill appear and when I look at the "action bar" of different kinds of attacks to make on the monsters I find that what I have are all the weapons from the game-series called "Worms" and I start throwing stuff at them. At one point I accidentally drop a mine by my feet and have to move quickly (I even think I hopped off the way the worms do), and after that I settle for the cluster bombs and start throwing those at the beasts until they die.
The place shifts back again and now there are two guys by the shelves I'm at (the prog section, of course) and one of 'em turns to me and goes: "I know you." "What?" I say.
"Yeah, I know you from the Internet. I've known you since you were a little kid, like five (*note* this is quite odd since I was five in 1990 and clearly not online at that point). Your online handle is Kendra."
"Errr, no?"
"Yes, it is." He started smiling, a little bit creepy-looking.
Then out of nowhere comes Kit and drags me off to look at the records, away from this guy. For some reason we browse through the different albums on one of those scroll menu things you get when you're filling out an online form, for instance, choosing your country of residency from a list. But we keep getting interrupted by different things. The last interruption I remember is my grandmother appearing out of nowhere to ask me if I've moved all my books out of her flat yet (which is odd in many ways since we rarely talk about books and I've never had any at her home), and I'm a bit... confused. But then, behind here, there is suddenly a rug with a pile of books on it and I assume they've got something to do with me and I now know the answer.
"Most of them, but there are a few left."
And then she starts talking about this one book that the owner has to rewrite by themselves and I think there's something odd about taking an ABBA-song and rewriting the lyrics for it to fit you (I know that "mine" was My Love, My Life but I don't know if that's the one everyone got or just me). And then I woke up. At some point, it seems, I had grabbed my mobile (which was ringing to wake me up as I had set the alarm on it) and turned it off because when I woke up it was underneath me, jammed quite painfully into my back.
A long one.
Wednesday 8 August 2007
The Dream of August 6-7
No dream the night between the 5th and 6th, but here's last night's err.... "adventure".
It started in a town somewhere, I think it was supposed to be Malmö, but I didn't recognise it (and I haven't been to Malmö all that much, which might explain the lack of familiarity in the surroundings).
Then, I found myself inside the terminal of an airport, or so I thought. I was with my high school class, I think, 'cause some of my old friends were there. But other friends that had nothing to do with my high school were there too, like Beppo and Kit.
Unfortunately, many details of this dream were (I think) lost as I tried really hard to remember the end of it. But I know I tied my shoes or something on a bench when some weirdo security guy in a suit walked past two police officers standing really close to me and told them off (very loudly!) for not wearing their little blue stickers that said "police officer". These stickers were really tiny, and the policemen were in full uniform but apparently the stickers were the important part of the uniform.
I remember me and Kit buying a lot of bread and stuff since apparently food would be really expensive in Germany (that's where we were going, I've forgotten what town). But after we buy all this food we remember that we're flying with RyanAir and to save money we've only got carry-on luggage and you can't get the food past security then. So I asked Beppo to take our food, and he refused. Then I asked a guy from my old class, Joel (I haven't seen him for like four years) to do it and he refused too. Then we had to get to the gate (apparently the security check would be at the gate) and we had to walk outside.
There were three different footpaths leading to gates. The right one had a sign with an airplane and it said something about RyanAir but it didn't have any info on our flight so while we weren't sure that it was the right one we assumed it must be started walking that way. Then I had a change of heart and told Kit that I would go back and see what the other two signs said, maybe I could rule those two footpaths out based on what departure information their signs had on them. So I got back and made sure that they were the wrong ones and then I turned to walk to the gate. Now here's the really freaky part. Suddenly it's no longer the way to a gate at an airport. Now it's a railway station and I think nothing of the sudden change of transportation.
However, a train passes by, right next to me, and there are already two trains waiting where the footpath used to be and with this third one there are now three tracks running parallel to one another and there's a train on each one. I know that I'm supposed to get past them to reach the platform, but how? One of the train tracks is situated higher than the other two (like it's on some elevated platform one and a half meters up) and has sort of a fence around it and I decide that the fence is my best option and climb up there. My intention is to hold on to the fence and make my way to the platform between these two trains. But it's much too tight for me to squeeze my way between the trains and the power lines above the middle train are now perilously close to me. But then the train on the higher platform starts to move and I can now walk on the tracks behind it.
Here is a bit of a blank part, but I make it to the platform where we're about to board our train to Germany. And now it's been obvious that we were going by train all along and I turn to Kit and say: "D'uh! Why were we so worried about bringing food past security? We're not flying, we're travelling by train!"
And then I woke up. I know more stuff happened when I was out and about in Malmö and more stuff happened inside that airport, which kind of resembled a shopping mall, really... But I can't remember any of that.
It started in a town somewhere, I think it was supposed to be Malmö, but I didn't recognise it (and I haven't been to Malmö all that much, which might explain the lack of familiarity in the surroundings).
Then, I found myself inside the terminal of an airport, or so I thought. I was with my high school class, I think, 'cause some of my old friends were there. But other friends that had nothing to do with my high school were there too, like Beppo and Kit.
Unfortunately, many details of this dream were (I think) lost as I tried really hard to remember the end of it. But I know I tied my shoes or something on a bench when some weirdo security guy in a suit walked past two police officers standing really close to me and told them off (very loudly!) for not wearing their little blue stickers that said "police officer". These stickers were really tiny, and the policemen were in full uniform but apparently the stickers were the important part of the uniform.
I remember me and Kit buying a lot of bread and stuff since apparently food would be really expensive in Germany (that's where we were going, I've forgotten what town). But after we buy all this food we remember that we're flying with RyanAir and to save money we've only got carry-on luggage and you can't get the food past security then. So I asked Beppo to take our food, and he refused. Then I asked a guy from my old class, Joel (I haven't seen him for like four years) to do it and he refused too. Then we had to get to the gate (apparently the security check would be at the gate) and we had to walk outside.
There were three different footpaths leading to gates. The right one had a sign with an airplane and it said something about RyanAir but it didn't have any info on our flight so while we weren't sure that it was the right one we assumed it must be started walking that way. Then I had a change of heart and told Kit that I would go back and see what the other two signs said, maybe I could rule those two footpaths out based on what departure information their signs had on them. So I got back and made sure that they were the wrong ones and then I turned to walk to the gate. Now here's the really freaky part. Suddenly it's no longer the way to a gate at an airport. Now it's a railway station and I think nothing of the sudden change of transportation.
However, a train passes by, right next to me, and there are already two trains waiting where the footpath used to be and with this third one there are now three tracks running parallel to one another and there's a train on each one. I know that I'm supposed to get past them to reach the platform, but how? One of the train tracks is situated higher than the other two (like it's on some elevated platform one and a half meters up) and has sort of a fence around it and I decide that the fence is my best option and climb up there. My intention is to hold on to the fence and make my way to the platform between these two trains. But it's much too tight for me to squeeze my way between the trains and the power lines above the middle train are now perilously close to me. But then the train on the higher platform starts to move and I can now walk on the tracks behind it.
Here is a bit of a blank part, but I make it to the platform where we're about to board our train to Germany. And now it's been obvious that we were going by train all along and I turn to Kit and say: "D'uh! Why were we so worried about bringing food past security? We're not flying, we're travelling by train!"
And then I woke up. I know more stuff happened when I was out and about in Malmö and more stuff happened inside that airport, which kind of resembled a shopping mall, really... But I can't remember any of that.
Sunday 5 August 2007
The Dream of August 4-5
Bits and pieces again.
At one point I'm on the Camp Funkadelica bus, and I think I'm actually driving it too. And I'm supposed to get us somewhere but I keep getting lost and I drive around in quite different environments, though it's always in a town of some sort. Parts of it resemble Bristol, parts resemble the part of Linköping where my friend Beppo lives. Some parts don't resemble any place I can remember that I've ever seen, but somehow I kind of "know" that it's Lund (where my aunt lives).
In the end we get to a hospital, where I suppose we were going all along only I didn't realise it before then. And... I don't think I'm a nurse or a med student or anything, but for some reason me and some friends of mine (in the dream, I don't know these girls in real life) are giving another friend medication. And then they take her away into a locked ward. But then we realise that we gave her way too much medicine and we somehow have to get it out of her without letting the hospital staff know that we messed up.
We manage to sneak in through the locked door (which is actually one of those glass doors that shops sometimes use that slides open on its own when you're standing in front of it) and we start trying to think of different ways to help our friend. Then she sneezes, and like... white goo spurts out of her nose and mouth. We all keep trying to think of ways of reducing the amount of medication in our friend's system until someone points out that tests show that it's reduced to the proper level and that she must have sneezed most of it out.
I know there's more to this dream, but this is what I can remember.
At one point I'm on the Camp Funkadelica bus, and I think I'm actually driving it too. And I'm supposed to get us somewhere but I keep getting lost and I drive around in quite different environments, though it's always in a town of some sort. Parts of it resemble Bristol, parts resemble the part of Linköping where my friend Beppo lives. Some parts don't resemble any place I can remember that I've ever seen, but somehow I kind of "know" that it's Lund (where my aunt lives).
In the end we get to a hospital, where I suppose we were going all along only I didn't realise it before then. And... I don't think I'm a nurse or a med student or anything, but for some reason me and some friends of mine (in the dream, I don't know these girls in real life) are giving another friend medication. And then they take her away into a locked ward. But then we realise that we gave her way too much medicine and we somehow have to get it out of her without letting the hospital staff know that we messed up.
We manage to sneak in through the locked door (which is actually one of those glass doors that shops sometimes use that slides open on its own when you're standing in front of it) and we start trying to think of different ways to help our friend. Then she sneezes, and like... white goo spurts out of her nose and mouth. We all keep trying to think of ways of reducing the amount of medication in our friend's system until someone points out that tests show that it's reduced to the proper level and that she must have sneezed most of it out.
I know there's more to this dream, but this is what I can remember.
Saturday 4 August 2007
The Dream of August 3-4
I only remember bits and pieces of this dream, but I think I was at a festival in a forest with some friends. And there was something about the tent not being good enough and then I remember listening to music and getting into an argument with someone. A man. But we sorted our differences out and became friends, and then he turned out to be a musician in a Porcupine Tree cover band who were playing the festival. And, of course, after we'd become friends the band turned out to suck ass and he was the worst of the lot! Clearly, I could not keep this to myself and it resulted in another argument that ended our brief friendship (one might think I'd have kept my opinions to myself, to save the friendship, but they REALLY sucked).
Then there was something about me and my friend Marie (who was there for some reason) needing a new tent and she brought a self-inflatable one. You seriously pulled a string and the thing just expanded and erected itself in front of you. The tent had the shape of a circus tent, but smaller, of course. In fact, there were a lot of circus tent-type things at the festival area.
That's a quite boring dream, and I remember too little of it. I have to start sleeping with a notepad and a pen by my bed so I can write down the stuff as I wake up. And when I go back to Linköping it's time to start experimenting with music to sleep to. Kit gets quite interesting results with this...
Then there was something about me and my friend Marie (who was there for some reason) needing a new tent and she brought a self-inflatable one. You seriously pulled a string and the thing just expanded and erected itself in front of you. The tent had the shape of a circus tent, but smaller, of course. In fact, there were a lot of circus tent-type things at the festival area.
That's a quite boring dream, and I remember too little of it. I have to start sleeping with a notepad and a pen by my bed so I can write down the stuff as I wake up. And when I go back to Linköping it's time to start experimenting with music to sleep to. Kit gets quite interesting results with this...
My introduction to the world of blogging and the dream of August 2-3.
My first post. Yay, or something.
So here goes, the first dream I intend to describe.
We're in Bristol, I know it's Bristol because I know that the river that runs through town is Avon, and the little part of the river banks in town that I saw looked a lot like this. Well, with the exception of the large medieval castle that was sitting right there. Oh yeah, there was a medieval castle in the center of town and this castle was a boarding school which Kit and I both attended. At the same time, with very strict rules that we both adhered to despite the fact that she's 17 and I'm 22.
So, there we were, attending school in an old castle that had a moat and a drawbridge and everything. For some reason, I was out in the afternoon one day and I was drinking coffee (well, probably something else since I hate coffee) or something at a sidewalk café with one of my teachers (I kind of know who it was, but I'll get to that later) - and I remember us talking about stuff and for some reason we started kissing. And as weird as that was, it's about to get weirder. After my teacher left I was leaving the sidewalk café (which I'm now pretty sure was either on a boat that was shaped like a square or in a house that also had a moat) and as I got up to leave I saw my mother on the other side of the moat and left to go talk to her. It turned out that she had seen me kiss my teacher and was upset with me and wanted to talk to me about my behaviour - she didn't seem upset at all with my teacher, just me. She made me feel really guilty about the whole thing.
So, the next day or something, I'm back at the castle. And Porcupine Tree are in town! I think we go to see them play - in the middle of the day when we're allowed out of the castle. Kinda strict place, really. Parts of the dream are blurry, but I think we saw them before we ate dinner or lunch in the school cafeteria. Kit was sitting two seats down from me, and opposite me was Jerome from "Ian Wright's Unfit Kids" (a really cute kid!) and apparently his rice was burnt and he asked me for some of mine and as I put some on his plate Kit got up from her seat, mumbled something about having stuff to do and left.
At some point during that day we'd overheard one of PT's roadies saying they were all going to a pub called "I love Jessie" (I know, right? Weirdest name ever!) and as it happened, this pub was right across the river (there was a bridge right after the drawbridge to the castle) and of course the little building that was the pub had a moat too. No drawbridge though, just a regular one. And we managed to sneak out and we could see Wes and Steven through the windows of the second floor of the pub. Steven saw us too and was standing very solemnly, slightly leaning out of the window, watching us. And then a teacher caught us - not the one I'd kissed earlier, a different one. He yelled at me for taking Kit out of the castle like this, taking her age into account, and then sent her back inside. But he didn't send me back, instead we walked over the bridge to the pub and continued around back where there were no people and... we started making out. And then I woke up. Two teachers in two days?!?!?! I'm the sluttiest boarding school girl ever!
So, the weird thing about these teachers... One of them was a friend (of sorts) of mine and the other one was Severus Snape from the Harry Potter books. I actually can't quite remember which pf them did what, but I *think* Snape was the one that caught us outside the pub at night, he seems to be a more nocturnal teacher than most others.
Why was I making out with them? Why did Jerome ask for my rice? Why was his burnt and not mine? Why was Steven watching us from the window of the pub? And why the hell am I attending a boarding school at the age of 22? A medieval one at that! Though, no complaints about it being located in Bristol...
That's it for my first blog post. I've officially sold my soul to the devil.
So here goes, the first dream I intend to describe.
We're in Bristol, I know it's Bristol because I know that the river that runs through town is Avon, and the little part of the river banks in town that I saw looked a lot like this. Well, with the exception of the large medieval castle that was sitting right there. Oh yeah, there was a medieval castle in the center of town and this castle was a boarding school which Kit and I both attended. At the same time, with very strict rules that we both adhered to despite the fact that she's 17 and I'm 22.
So, there we were, attending school in an old castle that had a moat and a drawbridge and everything. For some reason, I was out in the afternoon one day and I was drinking coffee (well, probably something else since I hate coffee) or something at a sidewalk café with one of my teachers (I kind of know who it was, but I'll get to that later) - and I remember us talking about stuff and for some reason we started kissing. And as weird as that was, it's about to get weirder. After my teacher left I was leaving the sidewalk café (which I'm now pretty sure was either on a boat that was shaped like a square or in a house that also had a moat) and as I got up to leave I saw my mother on the other side of the moat and left to go talk to her. It turned out that she had seen me kiss my teacher and was upset with me and wanted to talk to me about my behaviour - she didn't seem upset at all with my teacher, just me. She made me feel really guilty about the whole thing.
So, the next day or something, I'm back at the castle. And Porcupine Tree are in town! I think we go to see them play - in the middle of the day when we're allowed out of the castle. Kinda strict place, really. Parts of the dream are blurry, but I think we saw them before we ate dinner or lunch in the school cafeteria. Kit was sitting two seats down from me, and opposite me was Jerome from "Ian Wright's Unfit Kids" (a really cute kid!) and apparently his rice was burnt and he asked me for some of mine and as I put some on his plate Kit got up from her seat, mumbled something about having stuff to do and left.
At some point during that day we'd overheard one of PT's roadies saying they were all going to a pub called "I love Jessie" (I know, right? Weirdest name ever!) and as it happened, this pub was right across the river (there was a bridge right after the drawbridge to the castle) and of course the little building that was the pub had a moat too. No drawbridge though, just a regular one. And we managed to sneak out and we could see Wes and Steven through the windows of the second floor of the pub. Steven saw us too and was standing very solemnly, slightly leaning out of the window, watching us. And then a teacher caught us - not the one I'd kissed earlier, a different one. He yelled at me for taking Kit out of the castle like this, taking her age into account, and then sent her back inside. But he didn't send me back, instead we walked over the bridge to the pub and continued around back where there were no people and... we started making out. And then I woke up. Two teachers in two days?!?!?! I'm the sluttiest boarding school girl ever!
So, the weird thing about these teachers... One of them was a friend (of sorts) of mine and the other one was Severus Snape from the Harry Potter books. I actually can't quite remember which pf them did what, but I *think* Snape was the one that caught us outside the pub at night, he seems to be a more nocturnal teacher than most others.
Why was I making out with them? Why did Jerome ask for my rice? Why was his burnt and not mine? Why was Steven watching us from the window of the pub? And why the hell am I attending a boarding school at the age of 22? A medieval one at that! Though, no complaints about it being located in Bristol...
That's it for my first blog post. I've officially sold my soul to the devil.
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